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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28787655">Are You Still There?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/arsenicarose/pseuds/Cathartic%20Pain'>Cathartic Pain (arsenicarose)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>DreamNotFound HURT Fics [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Being a God has its downsides, But it is sad fyi, But that actually means something, Character Death, Depression, Forever, Grief/Mourning, Hallucinations, I'm honestly not sure how to tag this lol, Immortality, Immortals, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Last Man Standing, Loneliness, Loss, M/M, Memory, Memory Loss, Post-Canon, Post-Loss, Set in SMP, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Unhappy Ending, no canon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:00:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,045</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28787655</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/arsenicarose/pseuds/Cathartic%20Pain</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dream is an immortal. He cannot die. </p><p>George can.</p><p>(AKA a lonely Dream wanders through the world, trying to hold on to his lover. It's all he has left.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>DreamNotFound HURT Fics [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2051328</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>73</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>114</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>MCYT DT Angst</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Isolation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Please be warned, this is incredibly sad!! It's very good, but SAD.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Hey Dream.” George’s voice was light and airy, like nothing was wrong. He never did take anything seriously, even when he should.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream could never stay mad at him, though. “Hey Georgie. How’ve you been?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing new. Nothing happens now, you know that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I know. Sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be sorry, Dream! You can’t be expected to remember everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream closed his eyes for a moment, trying to resist the urge, but he couldn’t stop himself. He turned to his side, and there George was, all soft brown hair, big eyes, and huge grin. “I remember. I just don’t like to think about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Dream.” This killed that beautiful smile on George’s face, and Dream wished he could take it back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, it’s okay. It’s good to see you again. I miss you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I miss you too. What have you been doing lately?” George started kicking his legs, relishing the movement a little too much. It must be good to stretch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, nothing much.” Dream looked out on the grassy hills in front of him. “There’s not a lot to do, besides survive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t pick flowers anymore.” George pouted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t even see what they look like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t see anything, Dream.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t,” Dream snapped, unable to contain it. “I like your visits, but please don’t torture me. I don’t like to think about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long have I been gone? You have to get over it at some point.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neither of them said anything for a long time, but he knew George was still there, kicking his legs and humming something long forgotten. The sun was setting, sending it’s warm golden rays on both of them. Dream couldn’t help turn to look. George was so beautiful in the dusk light, it almost made him glow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still love you, you know.” Dream stared into George’s cheek, hoping he would meet his needy gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He got his wish. George hesitated, but seemed to get the message, and turned to him, cocking his head to the side with a smile. “I love you too. Always.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The real George never said it so easily. He always fought and denied, coyly dangling the confession while Dream ran around and begged for it. George loved to make him beg, or at least he did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a choked sob, Dream reached out to cup George’s cheek, to touch him for just a moment, but his hand went through. “George, please,” he begged. It hadn’t worked any of the other times he had tried, so he couldn’t imagine it would work this time, but, for some reason, he still had hope.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry, Dream,” George murmured, before disappearing completely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, wait, I’m sorry! Please, come back!” Dream cried, waving his hands through the empty air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He got no response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a while, he stood. He bit his quivering lip and wiped the tears away, even as they continued to fall. He started walking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sometimes went back to the old places, the ones his friends used to haunt. He could almost hear the echoes of them in the abandoned halls, but it wasn’t like with George. All of their names still fell to his lips when he wanted to speak them out loud, but they no longer came when called. Sapnap was the last of them, besides George, to stick in his subconscious, and he had been gone for some time now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream’s biggest fear was that he would lose George too. What he had was a mere apparition, a spoonful of the man that was, but he would do anything to keep it. It was the only thing that kept him going, even if it tore him apart every time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The old streets were choked by vines and roots by that point. The structures were mostly still standing, except for a few that had been pushed over by zealous trees. The familiar paths were painful to walk, but he needed to try to keep the memories fresh. It was getting harder and harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he pushed, really tried, he could bring them back. He could recount the times he had spent with friends and enemies alike. Time had made the memories dim and scratchy, but he replayed them over and over, desperately hoping to cling to whatever he could keep.</span>
</p><p><span>He knew there was a lot he had </span>already lost.</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, he found George’s house, the stupid mushroom one he had built during a war. Dream almost laughed. War. How stupid. After all this time, he couldn’t even remember what they had been fighting for or who was on what side. He would have given the other side whatever they wanted if he could have any one of them back. He was so desperately alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was all grown over now, of course. The mushrooms had eaten up the leaves and exploded out like bloated carcasses. The wood from the bridge was rotted from the water, and the campfires had completely disintegrated. The door had fallen down under the weight of the fungus, which had long ago overfilled the interior.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had called the house stupid, but he honestly loved it. It was so cute, or at least it had been, and he remembered how proud George was when he first showed it off.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Look! I made it perfectly symmetrical, and it’s built right in the side of the mountain. I mean, it’s clearly manmade, but doesn’t it almost </span>
  </em>
  <span>look</span>
  <em>
    <span> natural? Like it belongs here?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream scoffed, “Maybe if you had built it in a dark oak forest.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh my God, Dream, complimenting people won’t kill you!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love it, George,” Dream whispered to nothing, as he did every time he ended up back at this place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George appeared beside him, smiling once again. “Took you long enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I liked it then, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” George rolled his eyes. “You always have to be a contrarian.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not anymore,” Dream corrected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, but desperate men take what they are given.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ouch…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s true! You would light yourself on fire if it meant you could see me again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream gave a wry smile, finally giving in and looking. “I tried that once, didn’t work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George’s eyebrows shot up, and his mouth formed a perfect O. “Did you really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve tried every method I could to die, George. No matter what I do, I pop back up somewhere. Either where I last slept, or by the first place we found together. I gave up a long time ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you can’t die, Dream,” George said softly, “I figured it out before you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Wilbur only got three chances, then he was a ghost, slowly fading away! Schlatt only got three chances, and then he was just </span>
  </em>
  <span>gone. </span>
  <em>
    <span>People only get three! But you? How many times have you died, Dream?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Back then, it had been a fun game Dream played with himself. “Oh, I don’t want to walk that far, guess I’ll die instead.” or “Hey, does anyone want to watch me jump off this cliff and see if I can survive?” He was athletic and nimble, scarily good at avoiding death when he needed to, but he was lazy and young and foolish. Once he realized that death wasn’t permanent, he just messed around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t so fun anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream turned his focus back to George. “Yeah, yeah, you’re so smart, but what does it do for me </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>? You were right, George! Congratulations! You’re still gone!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not gone, Dream. I’m here with you right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you’re not! You’re not </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You’re just… You’re just a voice and an image, nothing more!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want me to leave?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream reached out, tried to stop him, before he remembered. “Please, don’t…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know how long I can linger…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know… I know… I’m sorry, Georgie. Just, please… Stay with me for a little while?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, Dream.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat in silence for a moment, before he finally couldn’t hold it in. “George, where do you go when you’re not here?” Dream asked, already knowing the answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. I don’t really think about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I figured, since you asked. I don’t think I ‘go’ anywhere. I’m not real, Dream.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They turned back and looked at the house, stared at it as if they would be able to watch the mushroom eat away at the rotting wood. Dream never knew what to say when George came. He was so lonely, but this apparition wasn’t enough. It was mostly memory and loneliness forming a kind of hallucination, he knew that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A tear leaked out of his eye, and he knew it was time. “George… Can you hold me, please?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can try…” George reached out with both of his arms, spreading them wide.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sight of it made Dream burst into full tears, and he tried to bury himself into George’s arms, but fell through nothingness. He watched as the vision disappeared, and sobbed harder, collapsing to the mulch and decaying logs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?!” he demanded, voice raw and ragged, but there was no one to answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sobbed into the ground for (probably) hours. He wept until his teeth ached and his head pounded and his body went numb from the cold, and then he kept going. It didn’t matter. He had long ago stopped caring about physical pain. He had died so many times by that point, mild soreness wasn’t going to bother him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, he stopped crying. There are only so many tears you can let yourself cry over a man long dead. He brushed the debris from his clothes and wandered back through what had once been his lands. He placed a hand on every building, letting whatever he could get from each wash over him. Sometimes, another tear would leak through, despite himself, as he remembered everyone he had lost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, he had seen it all, and he kept going. There was no reason to stay in that place, it only hurt him. It hurt him more each time he saw it, and he wondered how long it would be before the forest completely reclaimed it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I would be here if I could, you know,” George said, once, “I never wanted to leave you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That doesn’t make it easier. I know you didn’t want to go. You begged me to find a way to stop death for you too, and you know I couldn’t find it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not blaming you. It’s not your fault. You did everything you could.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That I did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George sighed audibly. “How long are you going to keep doing this to yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As long as I need to, Georgie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not good for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s no one else! They all died, George! We were foreigners in a foreign land and we didn’t populate it or conquer it! We were just here until we weren’t.” Dream really tried not to start sobbing again. George always did this to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re still here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that. Believe me, I do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When the last of them had died, Dream had been okay for a while. Not good, he missed them all terribly, but there had to be more, right? They weren’t the only sentient beings in the whole world, were they?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream had walked for hundreds of kilometers in every direction, thousands with the help of the nether, and he found absolutely nothing. There were other forms of potentially sentient life, but they had no interest in him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The villagers couldn’t talk to him, and, though they would trade with him, they saw him as a strange outsider. They would huddle together and gossip in their bizarre, humming tones, glancing up at him with worry. He tried to learn their speech, to befriend them, but they wouldn’t let him in. He could live near them, but he would never be one of them, and rejection hurt more than being alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The endermen couldn’t even meet his gaze. Sometimes, he would try to talk to one, pretend to have a conversation, even a one sided one, but then he would look up and enrage the poor thing. It would bare its teeth at him and scream, and he would be forced to run into the water until it forgot or until he killed it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The piglins would take his gold and dance with him when they killed something together, but they were just as bad as the villagers, maybe worse, since the alliance was so tenuous. He had stayed in a bastion for a while, even restored it for them, but one day they saw him mine some gold and they hated him forever after. He decided the nether was too hot anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Normally, these things didn’t bother him, or, rather, he had learned to live with them. It was around that time that he had first started seeing his friends again. He immediately recognized them for what they were, but he didn’t care. He was even happy to hear Tommy’s annoying voice and watch Quackity flirt shamelessly with George, just to piss him off. Dream didn’t know how long it had been when he started to project them back into the world, but it was long enough that even that taste of what had been was perfect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would give anything to get it back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Especially with what was happening. George’s visits started to get less frequent, just like they did with everyone else. It was minor at first, barely noticeable, but it was starting to become obvious. Dream didn’t have the best track of time or how long it had been, but he knew that George was slipping away, just like the rest of them, and he couldn’t handle it even a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long has it been?” Dream asked, the next time that George appeared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since you died. Since everyone died.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, Dream. I don’t know any better than you do. My guess, though, would be a long, long time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream sighed. “I figured that. Maybe I should have counted better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think that would have driven you mad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m talking to you, aren’t I?” Dream laughed, bitterly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George sighed. “You’re not crazy, Dream. You’re lonely. There is a difference.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It feels the same to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George’s hand reached out to pat Dream on the shoulder, and Dream tensed, almost passing out from the wanting of it, but the hand passed through him, not even pretending to rest on his arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes, Dream would let a mob kill him, just to feel the touch of something alive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish there was something I could do to make it better,” George murmured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There is. Don’t leave me. I didn’t want to lose the rest of them, but I can’t lose you. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t promise that, Dream.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you can’t, but just pretend? Please?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay…” George paused, unable to meet Dream’s eyes. “I promise, I won’t leave you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream didn’t know if that made him feel better or not.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t track time, but he knew it had been too long. Every moment of every day became about George, wondering when it would come back. He didn’t eat, didn’t sleep, didn’t do anything but pace and pray and die, only to return, more desperate than before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could feel himself not be able to handle it. He could feel himself being shredded from the inside out, but he was helpless to stop it. If drowning in a lava lake in the middle of the nether wouldn’t kill him, losing his mind certainly wouldn’t do it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, after what felt like </span>
  <em>
    <span>years</span>
  </em>
  <span> of waiting, though Dream honestly couldn’t be sure, George popped back up with no warning. “Hey Dream!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“GEORGE?! Where have you been!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno… I don’t know how I got here either.” George looked down at his body, turning his arms this way and that, and Dream saw it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George was faded, barely even there. It had been happening for a long time, but Dream had refused to see it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What can I do, George? Please, tell me what I can do. Name something, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and I will make it happen. Please, just don’t leave me. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There is nothing you can do, Dream. I’m so sorry. You held onto me so well for all this time, but Dream, it’s been </span>
  <em>
    <span>so long</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long, George?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When was the last time you went back to our lands?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream paused to think about it, and he honestly couldn’t remember. He knew he used to do it, but at some point, it just wasn’t worth the trip. He started venturing further and further out instead, hoping there would be another colony like theirs. If they had found this place, other people could too, right? “I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Neither do I, but I think you should see them. Do you even remember the other people’s names anymore?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I do! Sapnap and Bad and Karl and Quacky… and Callahan… Sk- um, Skeppy… T- t- Tom? … Tech… something… Oh God…” Dream dropped his face into his hands. He was truly losing them. Why hadn’t he written their names down? Why hadn’t he tried to draw their faces from memory?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, he remembered that he had, but the paper had disintegrated eventually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Dream.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“George, please, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span> I can’t. You’re literally all I have left.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have me, Dream… I’ve never been here. Not since I died.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know!” Dream sobbed, “I know, but please. You’re all that keeps me going!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You won’t die without me there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it?” Dream spat, bitterly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I really am sorry, Dream.” George started to fade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO!” Dream held his hands out uselessly. “Please, George, I’m so sorry. I’ll do anything! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>! I would fall into lava over and over. I would jump off every cliff on the entire planet! I would run until my feet bled! Just tell me something I can do for you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can let me go,” George whispered, somberly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t do that. Tell me anything but that, please, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Dream’s voice was choked, barely intelligible over the wracking sobs, but George understood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry, Dream. I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I tried to stay, but it’s been so long. I’m probably inaccurate by now, anyway.” George laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The joke fell flat though. It hurt too much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care. I need it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, Dream. I will always love you, even when I can’t say it. I loved you with my last breath and beyond.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream reached out, trying to grab at the air in front of him useless, grasping at George’s form and finding nothing there. “George, no, please! Please. George, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Please! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please! PLEASE! </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>PLEASE!!!!!</em>
  </b>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it was no use. George faded into nothing, and Dream felt like a sword had gone through his heart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He still didn’t die</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>George had been right. Dream never saw him again after that. He didn’t even try begging anymore, so numb from the pain and emptiness that he couldn’t really do anything except walk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was George’s last wish, and so he had to do it. He pulled out his map and his compass and he walked back. He had managed to put hundreds of thousands of kilometers between him and what had been home, but all he had was time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he walked, he repeated all their names, even the ones he wasn’t sure of. Most of their faces were long gone, but he had their names, which meant they weren’t lost. He would say them over and over again, to the beat of his steps, trying to hold on to them for as long as he could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a while, some of the names got more and more confused. Kad? Quarl? Tompnap? It didn’t sound right, but he couldn’t remember. He screamed useless into the sky. All he had left was George.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scrawled George’s name all over his body. He wrote it everywhere he could., carved it into every tree, filled pages and pages with it, pressed into the dirt. The path he left behind was littered with George’s name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream had already forgotten his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, after what seemed like forever, he finally made it back to the edge of the familiar. He recognized the coords, and soon, he would be back in the place he called home. He kept walking, waiting for the first buildings to pop up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They never did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a frantic panic, he started to run, recognizing some things, but mostly seeing completely new, strange shapes that had once been things he knew. The only thing that told him he had actually found the right location was the remnants of a cobblestone tower. It had once been a huge, jagged tooth tearing into the sky, but it was almost completely collapsed, leaving a trail of loose stones to a broken, mossy base.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t remember anything in this place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sprinted around in circles, looking for something, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>, that might be familiar to him, but there was nothing. Everything was completely lost, buried, eaten, and reclaimed. He had no idea how long he had been gone, but he was sure it must have been centuries by that point, maybe even longer. How long did it take to walk that many blocks out and back again, over and over?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, he ran into George’s old house, though there was nothing of the former structure. He recognized it by the foreign mushrooms fighting each other to devour the area. They had turned into giant fungi, stealing light from the sky and killing everything around them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was thankful George had pulled these mushrooms away from their native habitat, otherwise, he might never have found it. He half remembered a time where he had insulted the little cottage, but he couldn’t even recall what it originally looked like.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love it, George, actually,” he murmured to nothing, hopeful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one responded. He had been trying to find George again for the entire journey, but he had already felt the loss. He really had no one left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pressed a hand to the mushroom, feeling it’s spongy texture molding against his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A scrap of memory graced him, fuzzy and garbled. A voice saying, “I love you, Dream.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too, George! Always!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was still nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually he moved on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Time kept marching on, no matter how much he wished it would stop. For a while, he went back to trying to kill himself, getting almost ritualistic, hoping that one day, he would find a way to be free.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was sure by that point that there was no one else. There was no way to know how he and his friends had gotten here, he couldn’t begin to remember, but apparently, it was a one time thing. Either that, or any people who had managed to get here were somewhere incredibly far away. The world seemed to be endless, and there was just so much of it. He could easily have walked right past humans, missing them by only a couple hundred blocks. Maybe more humans had appeared, lived, and died, and he just hadn’t found them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a while, he started to forget to write George’s name down. After a while, he forgot even how to spell it, even as he could make his mouth shape the words for him. After a while, his mouth became unsure, confused, just like it had with the other names.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a while, he lost it entirely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, he had nothing left to cling to, nothing except the knowledge that once, he had friends and someone who loved him dearly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But as time passed, he started to lose that too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was nothing he could do about it, however, so he kept wandering, hoping to find something to make it better, even when he eventually forgot what that something could even be.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Guilt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>George woke with a gasp, painful air shredding into his lungs. Did Dream bring him back <em> again </em>? How long would he have to keep doing this? Living off of hundreds of golden apples and healing potions, just to keep him going a little longer. He was tired, so very tired. He didn’t want to die, but he wanted life to be easier.</p><p>But then the air became soft and soothing. His body felt rebooted, and all the aches and pains from forcefully keeping him alive faded away, as did the years of age that had ground him down to his bones. He looked down and saw himself as he once was, back in the early days.</p><p>There was no way he was alive.</p><p>George looked around, taking in everything. The room was huge, endless almost, with floors made of white stained glass. There were other people milling about and talking with each other, but George didn’t recognize them. The area stretched farther than he could see, but there were couches, televisions, computers, and other entertainment amenities scattered about, with no consistency or symmetry. Everything was a soft, translucent white, which should have been far too bright, but it was honestly soothing.</p><p>Where was he?</p><p>Suddenly, a voice called out to him. “Gogy!” </p><p>Sapnap…? George turned to see his friend, not as the old man who had died, but the rascal who had first appeared with him in the forest. “Sapnap? What? How?”</p><p>“So, Dream finally let you die, huh?”</p><p>“He didn’t <em> let </em> me die!” George snapped, “And I didn’t want to leave him anymore than he wanted to leave me.”</p><p>The grin that had lit up Sapnap’s face fell off. “I know, George. I’m sorry dude.”</p><p>“Did you ever find out why Dream can’t die? Maybe we can save him, bring him with us to this place, whatever it is?” George didn’t care if it was hell. He knew Dream wouldn’t be able to survive alone down there.</p><p>“We aren’t sure what this place is either, but it’s not just us! There are a lot of people from a lot of worlds here! Apparently, they’re all connected, and when you die, you come here.”</p><p>“Wait, we? Is everyone else here too?”</p><p>“Yeah! Come on, they’ve missed you!” Sapnap paused, bringing George in close to him. “We’ve been worried… We watched Dream keep you there with sheer force of will and a gold and apple farm the likes of which we’ve never seen. He must have pulled every single ore from the ground to keep you going. We never thought he would let you go.”</p><p>“You could see him? Us?” George blushed. When they weren’t fighting off the aging, they were doing other things…</p><p>“Yeah. There are screens that show us our worlds, if we want to see them. Don’t worry, freak, we didn’t watch that often. Time moves strangely here. Sometimes, we even forget to check… But we never forgot about you!” It sounded like a lie, a promise that needed to be said out loud to cover for something.</p><p>“Can… Can I see him?” George asked, hesitantly.</p><p>“Are you sure you want to see it? It’s not going to be pretty.”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Alright, fine, follow me.” Sapnap changed their heading, pointing George towards a collection of computer screens. “It’s going to hurt though…”</p><p>George didn’t care. He sat down on the white stool resolutely and started fiddling with the computer, trying to figure it out from sheer force of will. Thankfully, the thing wasn’t complicated, clearly designed to be user friendly. Without too much trial and error, he managed to find the right screen.</p><p>
  <em> View a World? Yes/No </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Home World/Random/Enter Seed </em>
</p><p>George didn’t know what “seed” meant, but thankfully there was a home world option. That was the only one he cared about. He clicked it, feeling a curl of trepidation twist in the back of his mind.</p><p>His old world popped up, and he found he missed it already. The soft yellow grasses and the gnarled brown roots around where they had been staying were <em> home </em>. The soft white was soothing, but it wasn’t home, and it never would be.</p><p>Dream was cradling his body, holding the corpse in his arms and rocking back and forth, his shoulders shaking heavily with sobs. He threw his head back, howling his pain and loss to an empty, uncaring sky, at least from his perspective.</p><p>“Is there sound?” George asked, quietly.</p><p>“Do you really want to-”</p><p>“Is. There. Sound?”</p><p>Sapnap sighed audibly and pushed something on the side of the machine. A pair of headphones popped out of the device, each attached by a retractable cord.</p><p>George grabbed one and shoved it into his ear without hesitation.</p><p>Then he heard it. The raw, ragged sound of a man mourning the very last thing he had. It tore through George, more painful than any sword had been. He grabbed his chest, as if he could protect his heart, and slumped against the chair. After only a moment, he had to pull the earpiece out, letting it slide back into the stand.</p><p>“Oh God,” George groaned.</p><p>“Yeah, that’s why I said no sound…”</p><p>“We have to do something! He’s going to be stuck down there! We have to save him!”</p><p>“I don’t know who you would even talk to about it, honestly…”</p><p>George glared at him, eyes full of murderous venom. “We can’t leave him down there. He’ll go mad.”</p><p>“There’s nothing we can do, George. Philza asked around when he first got here, and no one had even heard of something like that. There is no ‘leader’ here, no God. We’re just… here.”</p><p>“There has to be a way…”</p><p>Sapnap clapped a hand on his back, squeezing lightly. “And there might be, but you aren’t going to find it right now. Come on, everyone’s waiting on you!”</p><p>“I can’t believe you could just-”</p><p>“George, seriously, stop it. You just got here. You don’t know what we have or haven’t been doing, okay? Just- Just wait until you are here for a little while, and you’ll understand.” </p><p>Sapnap was never that serious about anything, and George couldn’t imagine why he would be so weird in what presented as basically heaven, but he was stunned enough to go along with it. He let Sapnap drag him through the selection of random people, whose names still floated magically above their heads, until they finally came to their group.</p><p>George was stunned by how <em> good </em> it was to see everyone, even those he hadn’t been as close to. There was no loneliness as long as he could be in Dream’s arms, but there was definitely a lack. Two people alone couldn’t make a community, and as everyone started to drop off, it had become harder and harder.</p><p>“George!” Karl called, “Hey everybody, George is here!”</p><p>The group turned to look at him, and their faces lit up. It filled George with a warmth he hadn’t known he was missing. “Hey everyone!”</p><p>“Man, we never thought he would let you go, Gogy. Well, who’s in exile now, dickhead?!” Tommy laughed uproariously, flipping off the area where the computers were.</p><p>“Shut up, Tommy,” George growled, fists clenching.</p><p>Sapnap rolled his eyes. “Seriously, dude, that was <em> so </em> long ago. Let it <em> go </em>.”</p><p>George took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “I know he wasn’t perfect, but no one deserves to be alone forever.”</p><p>“Yeah, I can agree to that,” Tommy admitted.</p><p>Things were awkward for a moment, but tensions eased quickly. Despite all the tension around people’s feelings on Dream, it was genuinely good to have most of the gang back together. They fell back into easy conversation, flirting and fighting and teasing like old times. Quackity immediately tried to convince George that a kiss would make him feel better, which did make him smile even as he rejected it. Wilbur sang him a song that Tommy and Tubbo danced to. Fundy joined in on piano, and soon, they were all crooning off key together.</p><p>Philza was the only person who seemed to take it seriously. He pulled George aside to check in, but he didn’t have any answers. There was no one to talk to and nothing to do. He had tried over and over.</p><p>George sighed, his eyes flashed between the monitors and the jovial scene around his friends. He went to his friends.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>One day, suddenly, he remembered that Dream was alone. It hit him like a bucket of ice water to his face, and he walked, practically sputtering, to the computers. He logged in robotically, trying not to think about how long it had been since he had thought to check. He hadn’t bothered since the first day. Sapnap had been right about how the place they were in stole time from you.</p><p>Dream was standing in the center of a village, looking forlornly at a couple of villagers who were chatting with each other, pausing occasionally to glance at him with worry. He let out a sigh and walked away, gripping a book to his chest. As he walked, he read through it, and George realized it had all of their names.</p><p>He logged off.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>The guilt started to gnaw at him again, and he had to check on Dream. The shame was less than last time, since George had remembered to put in the effort to ask around and see what could be done. It hadn’t gone very far, though. No one knew anything in “paradise,” and no one else bothered to look in on their old worlds after their first day.</p><p>Dream was being attacked by piglins when George checked again. He was running and jumping, weaving through low-hanging netherrack and glowstone, clutching some gold nuggets in his hands as he ran. A single tear streaked down his face as he escaped, finally getting out of their reach by leaping over a chasm. He turned back at their angry faces, crossbows still firing at him, and sighed wistfully, before turning and continuing to run. He didn’t stop until he got to the portal.</p><p>Once he burst through to the other side, panting and heaving with all the effort, a haunting smile crept across his face. His lips moved, something George hadn’t seen since the first day of mourning.</p><p>After hastily grabbing the headphones, George heard Dream’s voice for the first time in <em> so </em> long.</p><p>“George? George, oh my God!” Dream was saying to empty air, “You came back to me!”</p><p>It was a knife in the heart for George. Dream was losing it…</p><p>“Sapnap? Karl? Quackity! Oh my God! Everyone’s here! Thank God, I don’t know what I would do without you.”</p><p>Dream paused, presumably listening to whatever the false versions of them had to say, and George couldn’t watch any longer. He delicately pulled the earbud out, guiding it back into the dock. He allowed himself to watch Dream’s grinning face and wild gesticulation for a few moments before he finally turned to leave.</p><p>It was simply too painful to watch.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>For a while, it was easier to forget. Sometimes, Dream would come to mind again, a tug at the senses that stung a little, but he would shove it away. He had annoyed every single person he had come across with pestering questions, and no one knew anything about it. Drowning in guilt was just making it more difficult for him, so he didn’t.</p><p>Sometimes, the despair would come creeping back, trying to drag him back to remember how hard it must be for the poor man, alone in a huge empty world, but it was too much to him. Looking at those monitors filled him with a powerful sense of dread. No one else had checked on Dream but him, and they were doing just fine. He tried to follow suit.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>Lime green. He hadn’t thought about the color in so long, but Quackity and Sapnap were reminiscing about how George thought green was yellow and vice versa. Why did lime green mean anything? He couldn’t even see it…</p><p><em> Dream </em>.</p><p>George quickly excused himself and ran to the desks, shaking. How long had it been? How long had he forgotten? How could he have <em> let </em> himself forget?</p><p>Dream was sitting in front of a half collapsed building. After a moment, George realized it was his house, but now old and rotting. Tears started brimming in his eyes immediately. It had clearly been a long time. Dream was skinnier and lankier, with a straggled beard and long wavy hair. He was starting to give up.</p><p>The air in front of him was empty, but he was talking to it animatedly. George put the headphone in, and heard his own name again. He was surprised by how much it hurt.</p><p>“I love it, George.”</p><p>Dream’s voice was hoarse and hollow, but it was still Dream. George loved everyone he got to spend time with, but Dream had always been special, had been his. He reached out and put a hand to the glass. “Thank you, Dream…”</p><p>It felt weird to say his name out loud.</p><p>George listened to the half of the conversation he could hear, and it made him desperately want to save him, but it also made him want to run away and never return. Dream was ruined, absolutely destroyed. George had never even considered that the strong, competitive man he had known would ever have gotten to this point.</p><p>And there was still nothing he could do.</p><p>He sat, watching Dream and petting the monitor, until Dream broke down in desperate sobs that ripped George’s heart to pieces. Shamefully, he turned it off.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>It became a guilty shame of his, checking on Dream. No one else would do it, and it was the closest George could get to giving him company, and he felt like he deserved to deal with a little pain since everything else was so good for him.</p><p>There was no regularity to it, but Dream never slept, so he always saw something.</p><p>Sometimes, Dream would try to die. The pain that came when he failed, again, was unbearable to watch.</p><p>Most of the time, he just wandered aimlessly, though. George was sure he was searching for something, but George didn’t know what.</p><p>The conversations seemed to only involve Dream and a phantom George by that point. The real George had no idea where everyone else had gone or why it was just the two, but it worried him. Was Dream losing himself?</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>“Sapnap and Bad and Karl and Quacky… and Callahan… Sk- um, Skeppy… T- t- Tom? … Tech… something… Oh God…” Dream’s face fell into his hands, hopeless and guilty.</p><p>George watched in horror. Was he really forgetting? Then, George looked back on his friends, all hanging out with each other and some friends they had made since getting there. They didn’t remember Dream either.</p><p>George’s eyes fell back to the screen, and Dream was begging, tears streaming down his cheeks. The phantom George was leaving? Why? George would rather be there himself, but he had never had an issue with how Dream found his comfort. It was just difficult to watch.</p><p>But Dream losing the fake George? Impossible to witness. It was like seeing Dream mourn him all over again, but even worse. He rolled on the wet ground, curled in on himself, wailing and screaming, The despair tore him apart, and George wondered if he might finally get to die.</p><p>He didn’t.</p><p>After a while, Dream got up, brushed himself off, and started walking.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>The random meandering George had become used to was gone from that point on. It was a strict, continuous march, with an aim and a direction. Dream often consulted maps and his compass. George wondered absently where he was going.</p><p>Dream talked aloud as he walked, going through all the names he could remember, over and over. George cringed as they started disintegrating and morphing together. Dream realized it too, and he screamed into the sky in frustration.</p><p>But he didn’t forget George’s name.</p><p>He wrote it down everywhere. On his skin, in the trees, drawn in the dirt. His name was splashed across everything, and George sobbed harder than he ever had before.</p><p>The rest of his friends joined him that time, wondering what had thrown him to the ground in gut-wrenching tears, and when they saw it, it physically pushed them back. To go from not thinking of Dream for so long, to seeing him clinging to his last threads of humanity, was a jarring change.</p><p>They finally agreed to help.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>Dream had been going home. George should have known, if not from the direction, then at least from the knowledge of Dream himself. If he really had lost the last phantom friend, he would go back to the last place he had been with everyone, to try and find some peace.</p><p>There was none to be found.</p><p>It was all gone. George had expected as much, but watching Dream’s desperate run through the collapsed buildings and reclaimed hills brought the pain to the forefront. Dream had absolutely nothing left.</p><p>The mushroom house was now simply mushrooms, no house left, and George was kind of saddened by that too. Dream said what seemed to be a final goodbye, a final, “I love you,” and he left.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>Researching anything about immortality was impossible. There was no information, no knowledge, no centralized anything. His friends started asking around again, and again, they came up completely empty. One day, George walked from where their group had clumped and remained to the actual edge of the room. It was hundreds of meters away, but there was a white stained glass wall at one end. He walked around the entire border, but all he found were new faces and names, none of whom even knew what he was talking about. Some of them didn’t even understand his words at all.</p><p>Finally, he made it back to his home area, exhausted and confused. He had never truly felt trapped in whatever place they had found, but there really was no way out, or, in Dream’s case, in.</p><p>He checked on Dream one last time, but Dream did nothing at all. He just lay there, eyes open, unmoving and unfocused. He didn’t talk anymore. He didn’t whisper names. He just existed.</p><p>Finally, it occurred to George to explore around the computer itself. The directories and informational logs were locked, so he spent some time trying and failing to break through them, or to find anything at all.</p><p>After messing around for some unknown amount of time, he managed to get a pop up he had never seen before.</p><p>
  <em> Show cheats for “Home World” Yes/No </em>
</p><p>George’s heart started pounding in his chest, and he clicked yes.</p><p>Information poured across the screen, more information than he could possibly comprehend, and far more than he could use. He scanned through it, trying to find something useful, when he finally saw it.</p><p>
  <em> Life Count: </em>
</p><p>Most people’s was 0, except for Schlatt. His was -1 for some reason. George kept scanning, until finally, he saw it.</p><p>
  <em> Dream: 882465 lives </em>
</p><p>George was sure it couldn’t possibly be that easy, but he tried to edit it, and it worked. The program wouldn’t let him set it to 0, so he set it to one. Dream only had to die one more time, and he would be free.</p><p>But Dream wasn’t doing anything. He just lay there in the slowly setting sun, letting the golden light color in the hollow, grey pallor of his cheeks. George hoped that he might eventually starve, but then Dream, without even looking, pulled out a piece of bread and munched it down. It looked like Dream’s plan was to just <em> maintain </em> forever.</p><p>George looked back to all the tiny numbers, the well of information. Would it be possible?</p><p>
  <em> Life Count: </em>
</p><p>
  <em> GeorgeNotFound: 1 life </em>
</p><p>Suddenly, something grabbed him, yanking him from the seat. It ripped him to shreds, put him back together, and tore him apart again. It was the most painful thing he had ever experienced, and he had no idea what it was.</p><p>Until he opened his eyes. Everything was harsh and bright. After so long of calm, soft white, the ostentatiousness of being absolutely <em> surrounded </em> by color made George a little nauseated, to the point that he collapsed the moment he tried to stand and dry heaved into the yellow grass.</p><p>Being alive was so painful, but he had to make it through, for Dream. He knew where Dream had been last, and it didn’t look like he was going to move any time soon. It was a pretty long walk, but there was nothing else he could do. After giving himself to adjust to the hell of being alive again, he started punching a tree.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>It was impossible to ignore the passage of time now that he was stuck back in a place with a sun. George was being as careful as possible to only travel by day, to sleep the nights away. He didn’t want to lose all his progress to some rogue monster and have to start over. He wasn’t even sure if it would work.</p><p>It took sixteen full days to get to where Dream had been when George had dropped back into the world. His anxiety grew as he approached the tree Dream had been resting on, terrified that his friend would have moved on, but there he was.</p><p>George couldn’t help but gasp aloud at the sight. He was within touching distance of the man he loved more than anything. All the pain, the running, the fear would all be worth it now.</p><p>Dream shot up at the sound of George’s approach. He looked skeletal and his hair and beard cascaded down his body in tangled sheets. Despite everything, he didn’t look old, somewhere in middle age, but a gaunt and ruined middle age.</p><p>“Dream!” George cried out, holding his arms out.</p><p>Dream said nothing, simply cocking his head to the side.</p><p>“Dream? Dream, it’s me… George?”</p><p>Dream’s eyes narrowed for a moment, but he still said nothing.</p><p>George took a step forward, cautiously, and Dream reacted immediately. He pulled a notched and worn axe off his belt and growled, baring his teeth and crouching into a fighting stance.</p><p>“No, Dream, please, I’m here to help! Please, just talk to me! I’m not here to hurt you.”</p><p>Dream stopped growling, but his lips remained curled back, axe high and ready to strike. He wouldn’t attack George first, but there was no recognition in those eyes.</p><p>George couldn’t help it. Being thrown down from heaven, slammed back into the reality of earth, traveling for weeks in fear and hunger and color, and finally seeing Dream, only to be rejected? He burst into tears. Huge, fat droplets dripped down his cheeks, and he fully expected Dream to kill him, trapping himself back in that hellish place and sending George who knew where.</p><p>Instead, Dream looked confused. He rocked back and forth, shifting his weight from foot to foot.</p><p>“Dream…?” George asked again cautiously, through the choking loss of his voice.</p><p>Dream turned and walked away.</p><p>George sobbed again, but Dream didn’t react. He just left the source of noise and confusion behind, presumably to find another quiet place to remain alive.</p><p>George wasn’t sure if it was kindness or cruelty what he did next, but he had come back with one goal, and that hadn’t changed. As quietly as he could, he followed his former lover through the brush, until he was just close enough, and he stabbed Dream in the back.</p><p>Dream yelped in pain and confusion, looking back at George’s eyes with pure horror, as if to ask, <em> Why? </em></p><p>George couldn’t answer that. Instead, he murmured, “I’m so sorry, baby. I hope this helps,” and pulled his sword out.</p><p>Dream collapsed to the ground, but his body didn’t disappear. It lay there, staring with empty eyes. George sighed in relief, sinking to the ground next to Dream’s corpse, praying that this meant it was over, that they were finally free.</p><p>Then, the sword went through his heart as well.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much to your_trickster_god and pine_clips for helping me come up with this idea. &lt;3</p><p>Ps. Just so you know, Dream started with 999,999 lives, and he was left with 882,465 when George went to him. Guess how many times he tried to die. 🙃</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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